


ticking time bomb

by orphan_account



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Suicidal Thoughts, also i was kinda practicing with my writing a little, its just a tiny one shot, its sad yall im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: eddie kaspbrak breaks down





	ticking time bomb

The night air is cold. It stings Eddie’s eyes, makes his lips chapped and cracked, reddens his nose. He’s not sure where his legs are carrying him, but he does know why. His home life never was the best. His mom gave him the world, loved him, but he sometimes wondered how much a mother could love her son before it got excessive. He thought about Richie’s mom, who always got so hammered she forgot she ever had a son, and he also wondered which was worse; having a mom that cared too much, or having a mom that couldn’t care less about you. Richie and he were on the dangerous far-sides of a scale where everything should be in the middle, balanced. 

Eddie realized that his legs brought him to the quarry. He sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling and eyes looking out into the stars. He just came here to clear his mind. He had a particularly bad argument with his mom a few minutes prior. Or was it a few hours? Either way, it happened, and he only felt dangerously hollow. His chest felt empty and simultaneously full. Like someone stuffed ice cubes into his ribcage. The cubes melted into water, and the water began to flood his mind.

_ “I want to go stay with Bill for a while,” Eddie said, fists clenched at his sides, glaring defiantly at his mom. _

_ He couldn’t even remember how the argument started. Eddie said one wrong thing and it caused his mother to go into hysterics, her whiny, screechy voice flooding his brain. Like the water. _

_ “No! You can never leave me! Don’t you love me!?” Sonia screamed, cried, whined, whined, whined- _

_ “I do, mom! I do love you! But I need to get out of here sometimes!” Eddie tried. He tried his best to console his mother. _

_ “No you don’t! If you loved me, you would stay with me! Do you want me to kill myself!?” Sonia asked, stumbling to make her way to the kitchen. Eddie’s heart dropped, ten years of mental manipulation making him want to go to his crying mother. _

_ “N-No! Stop! Don’t!” Eddie pleaded, feeling small. Feeling gross. He gave in. He gave in again, just like he always did. _

_ “But what’s the point in living if my Eddie-bear doesn’t even love me?” Sonia sobbed. _

_ He wanted this to be over. _

_ “Please- I’ll- I’ll stay, just please, don’t hurt yourself-” Eddie started crying too, panicking. Sonia’s meticulous mental manipulation held Eddie in its tight grip. _

The argument went on until Eddie was on his knees in his room, on his floor, filling his room with loud sobs he couldn’t control. He only sobbed after he convinced his mom he wanted to stay. He always lied, always gave in, and he felt disgusting for it. Eddie wasn’t a human being. He was a tool to keep his mom happy.

Eddie shakily exhaled, the events of the night crashing down on him once more. His breath came out in wisps. His ankles stung from climbing out of his window and intentionally, no, accidentally, dropping down before it was safe and his ankles wouldn’t break from the impact, legs intent on taking him somewhere to- no. Don’t think about that. Happy thoughts. Act like you don’t want to jump off the cliff and drown in the quarry’s icy embrace. His body might make a bloody, gory splatter if the ice is thick enough to support the impact. A five foot tall, 120 pound 16 year old boy, making impact with the ice, reduced to a splatter you only see in horror movies. The image of it formed itself in Eddie’s mind, and his heart clenched with emotional pain. As if thinking of killing himself somehow made him sad.

_ The Losers would be the first to know. They would most likely cry for months on end. Maybe follow you. Your mom would off herself, Richie would miss you and cry out for you every night. It would break their hearts, you selfish, disgusting boy. But who cares! Do it! Everyone you love will hurt, but do it! Wait, no. Don’t! Do it! Do it, don’t, do it, don’t- _

“Eddie?”

The familiar voice made Eddie flinch. His heart hurt worse. He didn’t turn to see who it was, he only nodded. Richie sat next to him, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at Eddie with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?” Richie tries again. The question made Eddie break down. He let out a loud sob, one that had no volume control, ripping through his body, raw emotion crawling up his throat and escaping into the night air. Richie hated hearing it, because the cries made his heart break into small fragments. The rare raw sobs of a broken boy, the broken boy being the one and only Eddie Kaspbrak. You could only ever hear sobs like that from deaf people and Eddie.

Richie leans over and wraps an arm around Eddie, pulling him flush against his chest. He’d already flicked his cigarette over the side of the tall lip leading down to the ice slab below. If the Losers knew how much he’s done this for both Stan and Eddie, they’d be concerned. Although Richie was foul-mouthed and hyperactive, he was probably one of the best therapists for the Losers, even though Stan and Eddie were the only ones that went to him.

They stayed like that for a while. It felt like hours had passed when Eddie finally started calming a little, reduced to a sniffling, whining mess. Richie didn’t care that Eddie was getting snot and tears on his favorite jean jacket. He rubbed soothing patterns in Eddie’s back, smoothing his hands on Eddie’s shaking shoulder blades.

“Do you wanna talk about it? You don’t have to, but it might help.”

“She- She tells me she’ll k-kill herself if I leave her,” Eddie said, stuttering like Bill. “My mom’s an asshole.”

“Yeah. She really fucking is.” Richie said. “But you’re gonna be alright, okay? You’re stronger than you think. You’re gonna get through this, and I’m gonna be right here if you need me.”

Eddie lifted his face from the crook of Richie’s neck, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Richie had no idea how someone could look so nice even after they’ve cried for an hour. Maybe it was Richie’s raw love for the boy that made him think that. Eddie’s eyes were red and puffy, his face was blotchy, there were tear marks going down his cheeks and snot coming from his nose, and his hair was a mess. Yeah, maybe it was the love. Eddie wasn’t ugly to Richie no matter what he looked like.

The shorter boy leaned in, softly pressing his lips to Richie’s, which Richie immediately returned. They pulled away after a few seconds because Eddie’s snot was getting between their lips and it was pretty gross.

“I love you, Rich.” Eddie whispered, resting his head on Richie’s shoulder. He wasn’t cured, but moments like these shove the destructive thoughts to the back of his mind temporarily.

“Love you too, Eddie.”


End file.
